The number of people being born in Baskerville was still high, and so was the number of deaths.
The Styx Stream flowed, pushing back the tide.
Seven years had passed since the duel between the two eight-year-olds.
* * *
"This teacher can be an angel or a devil, depending on what you do!"
A short-bearded young man shouted in a rough voice.
He is Staffordshire Baskerville. 35 years old. He's a veteran knight of the Graduator class.
An outsider, a commoner, not even given the middle name of Van, let alone La, but an honest man who had managed to cleanse his bloodline by taking the family name of Baskerville due to his outstanding qualities and pure heart.
In particular, his "sharp tooth" swordsmanship is said to have reached the level of the Four Teeth Baskervilles.
Four teeth, drawn perfectly.
If he's this good, he should be able to lead and teach the younger Baskervilles right now.
"Now, for the final exercise, practice makes perfect, as I'm sure you're all well aware!"
Staffordshire looked at the fifteen- and sixteen-year-old Baskervilles before him.
All looked tired and weary. However, the coldness and venom in their eyes grew deeper and stronger.
The young Baskervilles here, all fifteen or sixteen years old, are warriors who have mastered the Sword Master junior class, Baskerville One Tooth.
Staffordshire checked the students' formation, then turned his head again.
In the center of the training grounds that surrounded them, a large bear stood on two paws.
Weighing 800 kilograms and standing three meters tall, there was something odd about this giant bear.
It has two sharply curved horns on top of its head.
Danger rating: A
Size: 5 meters
Found in: Edge 7, Red and Dark Mountains
-A very large beast with two massive horns.
A fierce bear, the strongest terrestrial predator, and a perfect killing machine, it is considered the strongest and apex of the Red and Dark Mountains seventh Edge ecosystem.
An evil creature with few natural enemies other than its own kind.
The bear carries two huge, curved buffalo horns on its head.
Its entire body is covered in thick muscle, fat, and hairy fur.
[grrrr…]
The beast now free in the arena seems to be a sub-adult, not yet fully grown.
It's also been in a cage for a long time, so its diet isn't very good.
But that also means it's aggressive and restless.
Staffordshire swung his sword to intimidate Oxbear, while encouraging the younger Baskervilles behind him.
"Now, we just need to do what we've been practicing on the demon's carcass. Last time we practiced on Oxbear's carcass, you all know how tough his hide is, how tight his muscles are, and what parts of his body contain which organs."
The calm-looking Staffordshire was a different man when he stood before Oxbear.
His eyes gleamed with life, and the aura emanating from the tip of his sword was like a giant's grip.
Staffordshire exuded such a frightening power that it overwhelmed Oxbear, but it never attacked.
Because it's not its place.
Next.
[Grrrrrr!]
Oxbear charged.
He rushed like a bison with his two horns.
The young Baskervilles retaliated, each according to their own preferences.
Some scattered to the left and right to evade, while others swung their swords before them.
…BANG!
Those who dodged survived, and those who managed to fell.
Staffordshire continued.
"If someone stronger than you is coming at you head-on, it's natural to dodge. But don't dodge by putting too much distance between you and them, instead sneak around them to the side and get in a small attack."
The young dogs' advice continues.
The young dogs' eyes gleamed, sucking them in like water.
"Don't be greedy and show no mercy right at the start. It's more likely to be countered. Instead, aim for the center of gravity of the body, in this case, the right hind leg, so that it's not as quick to move or react."
The young dogs followed their instructor's instructions and repeatedly aimed for the bear's legs as it stood on its two feet.
Continuing to aim for only his hind legs, Oxbear was left with a widening wound that left him with little use of one leg.
The menacing horn charge was neutralized.
By now, the young Baskervilles had bared their teeth vigorously.
They were now hunting dogs who could handle themselves without the guidance of Staffordshire.
Baskerville 1 meal. More than thirty teeth bared, tearing at Oxbear's body.
The most aggressive were the trio, Highbrow, Middlebrow, and Crude.
Quack, quack, quack!
They chased the bear as if they were the alpha.
They were the alpha of the pack, literally pushing aside any arrogant siblings who tried to get ahead of them, or any foolish siblings who fell behind their peers.
And then.
…thud!
Oxbear fell to the ground
.
"Good."
Staffordshire raised his sword and stepped toward Oxbear's body.
Thwack!
The bear's belly split open, spilling guts and flesh.
After four rounds of training, noon fell smoothly into place.
Staffordshire improvisedly handed Oxbear's guts and flesh to the young dogs.
Steaming red chunks of meat.
The young Baskervilles chewed and swallowed down the raw, nauseating flesh.
Staffordshire spoke to the students as they ate.
"Now, eat and listen. At this hour, three and a half hours of basic training, three and a half hours of practical training, are complete. Congratulations on your graduation."
Seven years of training had turned these rowdy boys into young warriors.
Everyone here was now a young prodigy who could not only infuse a blade with mana but also draw an impeccable set of teeth.
But Staffordshire said they were just getting started.
"Practicing with captured demons is just a tutorial that I wouldn't call fair, and now you have to create and build your own knowledge."
The advice of an old dog who has seen it all is always worth respecting.
"The wild beasts of the Red and Dark Mountains are formidable opponents and also cunning and crafty in nature, unlike those that have been left in cages for a long time. Even I can't compete with the tough and old ones I sometimes encounter."
That's true for the oxbear I just killed.
Facing a fully mature wild oxbear's horns, followed by a series of front paws and head bites, is dangerous enough for any grader.
Controlled variables, a safe environment, and set rules.
And a wild, untamed place where you can't survive on your training alone.
That's where these young dogs need to go from here.
The young Baskervilles already knew that.
Staffordshire pointed to the countless scars across his face.
"You'll have to go through the hell that lies ahead on your own. Either overcome it with the blood you were born with, or conquer it with your own wisdom. I have nothing more to share with you, that's all there is to it!"
With a brief giant salute, he relinquished his position as leader.
The young Baskervilles put down the meat and guts they'd been tearing into.
Then, they prepared themselves for the next 21 months of untamed territory.
When Staffordshire was gone, they gathered in small groups and began to chat informally.
"Hey, where did you get your knighthood?"
"First degree, Doberman. Two, a pit bull. And a Rottweiler."
"Oh, none of those cross with me. I prefer the Knights of the Wolfhound, then the Shepherds and the Bull Mastiffs."
The Seven Knights of Baskerville.
Each order was created and operated for a different purpose: vigilance, search, protection, assassination, suppression, and all-out combat.
But the grandest of the pack was the Order of the Wolfhound, which represented the power of the house.
"I want to join the Wolfhounds."
"But you can't just go there because you want to, you have to be selected."
"I'll be fair and apply for the Dobermans. That's basically the only place you can get into, other than the Wolfhounds."
"If I join the Doberman Knights, I'll have to guard the castle walls until the end of my life, and I can't handle that. I'd rather be a Pit Bull Knight, always on the frontline."
The youngsters murmured.
And naturally, their eyes slowly began to converge on a single point.
"…But where is he going to go?"
That was the common question of all the boys here.
Even the trio, who had been the most active in this oxbear hunt, had put down their pieces of meat and were now watching.
Vikir Van Baskerville.
A boy from outside the family, rumored to be Hugo's illegitimate child.
He hadn't joined the oxbear hunt, yet sat alone nevertheless in a remote part of the field.
And at Vikir's feet, lay a large oxbear.
A much larger one than the one that had just been killed by the combined efforts of more than thirty boys.
The young Baskervilles stared at Vikir, awe in their eyes.
"Is he really 15 years old like us?"
"How did he get an oxbear by himself?"
"From what I've heard, he's already a Blade Master?"
"He's also drawn three teeth."
"Crazy, he can use the three Baskerville forms? That makes him almost like an alpha dog!"
Admiration of the strong is common in any group, but it's even more pronounced in the Baskerville family.
But in reality, Vikir doesn't pay much attention to the rumors.
"High level Sword Master.'
High level Sword Master means that the strength at the tip of a sword has become so dense that it can pass between gas and liquid.
The offspring of Les Baskervilles generally reach this stage between the ages of twenty and 25, but Vikir is rumored to have achieved it by the age of fifteen.
…But.
Vikir's true secret power was beyond that of a Graduator Moderate.
It was a whole two levels above Sword Master, and akin to Staffordshire, who had been his mentor.
And considering the power of the Styx Stream and the potency of the demonic sword Satan, his actual combat power would be much stronger than this.
If the world knew, it would be severely shaken.
'…Right now, I've mastered five Baskerville Forms. In terms of swordsmanship alone, he has already surpassed the level before the regression."
He had never mastered a blade technique above the fourth level in his past life.
So, it would take him a bit longer than he had originally planned to become a perfect Graduator Moderate.
Meanwhile, Vikir closed his eyes and recalled the oxbear he had just killed.
It had been a close call, but the creature had been weakened by years in captivity, and he'd been able to defeat it with his secret skills.
Vikir's mind raced as he tried to figure out how good he was now, and how much he'd lost compared to his pre-regression abilities.
He couldn't be bothered with the chatter of the Baskervilles' day pups, who were just getting their teeth.
Then.
A topic of conversation caught the attention of even Vikir, who was lost in thought.
A young Baskerville had casually mentioned something.
"…Anyway, in our line, he's going to the Foundation?"
The Institute 'Colosseo'
A Supreme mandatory school where the Seven Houses of the Realm send their young heirs to be educated.
Due to the institution's capacity limitations, the number of students admitted is limited to a small number from each family.
Naturally, only the best children from each family are allowed to attend, which is something Vikir was interested in.
Of course, he doesn't have the greed for fame or the desire for education that other kids do.
"It's a chance to get away from Hugo and improve my skills.
Of course, there's more to it than that. Like settling a debt from a past life, or dealing with a secret artifact.
As Vikir ponders his next move.
"Young master."
A voice called to him from behind.
An old voice, areas of strength for yet.
A warm, gentle demeanor.
Butler John Barrymore came to stand next to Vikir.
He was an example of the rare type of person Vikir had ever felt sorry for in his past life, and Vikir had come to trust him.
Then, Butler Barrymore leaned closer to Vikir and whispered.
"My lord wants to see you."
Hugo Les Baskervilles?
It was always rare for him to seek out his children.
At Vikir's puzzled look, Barrymore smirked and continued.
"I believe he has decided on your position."